


Once Upon a Dream

by Star_Nymph



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Disney References, Gen, The Fade, mentions of child death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 15:31:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8719147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_Nymph/pseuds/Star_Nymph
Summary: The Fade played an annoying game and a cruel one as well.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was written a while back but I cleaned it up and decided to put it up. I wrote it when I was thinking about how the Fade tried and failed to fool the Warden, especially my Warden who hated Duncan so the moment she saw him there she knew some fuckery was going down. Besides, Oren's death is such a sad part of the story and was really instrumental to my Warden's development so might as well, right?
> 
> If you like the story or have anything to stay, please feel free to leave a comment.

The Fade played an annoying game. If it wasn’t determined to kill her so much, or at the very least destroy her mind, Seren might think of it as a bratty younger sibling whose non-stop trickery stopped being silly a long ago and now teetered dangerously toward pissing her off. Puzzles and riddles were not something she ever take took too much interest in. Now here she was, in a place that enjoyed the insanity which she couldn’t kick down and end with a sword. Why exactly anyone would find this place interesting was beyond her. 

She was getting tired of opening a door and being greeted by a wall of fire.

Which was _then_ proceed by an army of mages who, like the nughumpers they were, decided throwing more fire was the wise choice.

It was not.

Nothing here was a wise choice–and for the Maker’s own dignity, who created a door that could only be bypassed by a Spirit?! _Who?!_ She was going to have some words with that person!

Safe to say, Seren wanted out and she wanted out now.

It was likely her desperation to get back to her safe linear,  _locked-doors-can-be-open-by-actual-keys_  world and her habit of underestimating magic which made Seren overlook the next door she came across. Hair singed at the ends and soot sprayed across her face, she didn’t give much thought to the door which appeared in front of her (a door which she did not remember being there when she fought last). It was a normal door: large and made of strong oak, steel hinges keeping it up right and sturdy in case brute force attempted to take it down.

With a raised eyebrow, Seren noted there were no mouse holes about nor fire blocking her way. It was a normal sized door which thankfully meant she need not turn into a Golem to break it down–and there were no wisps of magic whispering that only a spirit may enter.

It was just a door–one that you could find in any noble house.

“ _Lovely_.” She sighed with relief etching her voice. Something she recognized in this blighted place. Maybe now she can get some sense of where she was and what she was doing. Thinking not of the oddity a normal door in the Fade was, Seren grabbed the knob and gave it one good push with her shoulder to open it up.

The long whining groan it gave filled her with nostalgia instantly. The wood felt old and crumbling against her hands, long dragging lines of knives playfully craving against it years ago under her fingers. She pushed harder, another shove like she always remembered she had to do, and then a good kick down at the bottom in case it was stuck.

 _It’s an old door_ , she recalled,  _it always has to get stuck like this._

She didn’t dwell too long on why she would know that, as when she finally got the door to completely open, Seren was seized by a bright blinding light. “Ah–!” She brought her hand up to cover her eyes, her feet taking her step by step into the light.

It was warm and gentle. The sun on a cloudless day. The wind went through her gently, threading through her fingers and her hair, and the tall green grass she could feel at her feet. Her heart squeezed painfully when she smelled flowers and polished stone, apples from the trees that surrounded her, crisp enough that they were right for plucking but young enough to not have fallen from the tree.

_I should get to those before the servants do–otherwise Fergus will get to the good ones. Fatty he is._

Seren wondered why she thought of apples and servants and Fergus when she knew better (when she knew the former two no longer existed and Fergus…she didn’t want to think on Fergus)–but in the next second she forgot all together why she was confused by this.

Tree’s leaves brushed over her head as she walked into the meadow, her eyes forward and caught in a bemused haze. With every step she took, Seren could feel her armor turn to liquid and drip right off her, as if they were never real. Soft sky blue fabric touched her skin, the well-worn dress she loved so much wrapped around her.

Where was her sword? The weight of it was gone yet she didn’t care. Her back felt free. Seren felt light and empty–enough so that she was sure she could fly off into the sky if she tried. The only thing that felt heavy were the pockets of her dress–and when she reached into them, all she grasped was flowers and apples she had already collected.

“ _Oooh_ no…where–?” She turned, touched her back, but in an instant, Seren could not remember why she had done so or what she was worried about. Apples, right? Had she forgotten something about apples? Maybe she should had brought her basket with her? Yes. That would have made sense. She could have carried more home to sneak away before her brother caught her. Really, how could she have forgotten such an important thing?

Silly thing, she was.

Something was moving in the grass. Seren turned her head towards the noise but didn’t move. It was small but fast. Clumsy, she could hear it trip while it rushed along toward her. Her mind swept over so many things: was it a small darkspawn, a stalker, a bandit’s mabari, or a giant spider?

_My weapon! Hold it fast, swing it first, don’t think of what you hit!_

That’s what she _should_ have thought. Instead, Seren laughed while her heart hung hefty in her rib cage and extended her hands out welcoming. She grinned and let out a gasp when the thing crashed into her legs, tiny hands fisting the front of her skirt.

“Look! I got a bunch! They’re good, right Auntie?”

Maker above.

**_Oren._ **

A scream, mourning and agonizing, trapped itself in Seren’s chest as she stared down at the child holding her legs. There he was; his cheeks and hands caked in dirt, dark brown hair meshed from the wind and his own rush. The little boy smiled with his red cheeks and his lively dark blue eyes. He had two apples in his hands, a beautiful hue of flawless red, and he held them up to her with pride.

A second gasp came out of Seren. She laughed, but there was no humor to it. Her blood felt cold peering down at this child and for the life of her, she couldn’t remember _why_.

Oren was. Oren was here. Oren, her little darling, was right here. Dirty, rambunctious, alive like any little boy his age should be.

Seren felt like her heart would burst when she dropped to her knees and touched his precious little face. Oh, how happy she was. She felt like crying and–this she did not understand–screaming in horror all at the same time. Like if she yelled loud enough, she would wake up.

Wake up from what though?

She was alive. Oren was real. He was here. He smiled and Seren smiled back.

“Aye, my love. You’re getting so good at spotting the good ones, aren’t you?” Seren took the apples and looked at them both. They really were perfect. Not a worm hole or rotting in sight–they were both smooth and round, the right shade of red.

She never remembered apples so perfect in her life. Strange how that filled her with unease. Shaking her head, she pocketed them both. “You know our secret, right? Take all the good ones and give none to your Papa.”

Oren twisted his lips up, “But what if he asks nicely?”

“Then you give him a bite and nothing else. Your papa is greedy, Oren. You give him one and he’ll take the rest. Then he’ll get chubby r _iiiii_ ght here!” Seren grabbed him by the side and tickled the child around his stomach, pulling him until he was in her lap. Oren screeched in surprised, laughing with his entire being while he kicked and trashed wildly, trying to get out of his Auntie’s grasp. And Seren laughed with him, for Oren’s laugh was one of the most contagious sounds she had ever heard.

She peppered the side of his head with kisses and held him strong to her. She felt whole again–as if there had been a time when she never felt so before. Maker, don’t take this away from her.

Don’t take her Oren away from her.

They laid there in the grass for a while, Seren’s arm hooked around Oren’s waist, her hair being laced with the flowers he found in his travels. They talked about nonsense, tiny little adventures her had taken on his own, and half-hearted promises about Seren teaching him to fight with a sword. Soon, however, they got up–more apples to get and all–and when she took her nephew’s hand, he craned his head up to look at her.

“Sing a song, Auntie.  _Pwweeasseee_?”

Seren’s heart swelled, then popped. She looked behind her, for some reason expecting a large wooden door to just be standing there. Why? She did not know. She was being so silly today.

Tightening her grip on Oren’s hand, Seren nodded. “Alright, my love. A song… _I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream…_ ”


End file.
